


Echoes

by Havanar



Series: After The Fall [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Atlas - Freeform, Description of Injuries, Established Relationship, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Marriage Proposal, Missing Scene, Parental Krolia (Voltron), Pining Shiro (Voltron), Protective Krolia (Voltron), Sappy, Season 7 Spoilers, The Black Lion, Whump, minor mention of injuries, season 7 missing scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-15 22:10:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16941615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Havanar/pseuds/Havanar
Summary: Shiro's heart plummets with the Black Lion.It plummets again when the Black Lion won't open.Missing scene(s) from the final episode of season 7 - what if the Black Lion was the last to let go of her paladin?





	1. The Fall

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea knocking around for ages and clearly the only thing that can make me write is the impending doom of a series finale.

A video feed opens up on the screen in front of Shiro.

The Black Lion.

Crashing through Earth’s atmosphere, and Shiro can’t take his eyes off it, not even when four, almost identical, feeds open, surrounding the first.

Four more Lions shooting towards the ground.

He can’t do anything as he feels his heart drop with Black, with all his Paladins. He can feel a pit open in the bottom of his stomach, as if he’s falling too. Falling with Keith, Allura, Hunk, Pidge, and Lance. His paladins. The Black Lion’s eyes, all of their eyes, are blank. Lifeless.

And then it dawns on him.

_The Paladin’s aren’t in control._

Black comes down first. Hitting the ground at such speed that even the Atlas shakes with the Earth. Then Red, Blue, Green, and finally Yellow.

The Atlas stops shaking, the consoles stop rattling, leaving behind silence inside the Atlas.

And something snaps in Shiro’s chest, pushing him into action. Forcing him into movement. Taking the commander role back.

He scans the screens, eyes darting between them. Black- Keith landed just on the edge of The Garrison, Blue in the sea, Red, Yellow, and Green are on land.

“MFE’s,” He says into the comms, his voice coming out steadier than he had expected. “I need you to get to the Green Lion, I’ll send you the coordinates now. Then get to Yellow.” He says. They MFE’s will be able to travel the fastest. They can handle it - he hopes. He doesn’t keep the communication channel open long enough to hear Griffin’s confirmation.

Next he gets through to the Garrison control room, gets them to send a team out to Blue, with specialist equipment, and Red. His body is running on autopilot. Like there’s a fog separating what he needs to do from what he feels. Because he knows he feels something, in the back of his mind, deep in his chest. And he knows that if he investigates, it will swallow him whole.

“The Black Lion?” Iverson asks, turning in his seat to look at Shiro, he looks as calm as ever, always the composed military man. He had been Shiro’s role model once. Now Shiro is glad he hadn’t turned out like Iverson.

“We’re closest.” He says, his voice cracking, slightly. Iverson doesn’t show any signs that he notices. “And it won’t need any specialist equipment.” He adds, trying to justify his decision.

It’s not that he loves Keith more. It’s not that he wants to save Keith more. Logistically speaking it makes the most sense, Blue needs specialist equipment. The MFE’s are a team who should be able to locate and deal with Green and Yellow. Red… A garrison team is on it’s way.

If the Atlas’ team can get Keith back to The Garrison, and fast, they can move onto help somewhere else.

Or at least, that’s what Shiro tells himself as he exits the Atlas to the sight of a powered down Lion.

 

* * *

 

Black has carved out a crater for herself, it’s deep, but there are no obstacles to sift through, there’s no dense forest like Green’s landing spot. No people or buildings like the camp where Yellow fell. No ocean to wade through. Only sand.

Shiro had been the first out of the Atlas. He’d found himself running towards Black, stumbling as he made his way into her crater, like a magnet being pulled in.

The same thought echoes throughout his mind; _please, please, please be okay._

Something, at the bottom of his heart, wonders if this is how Keith felt, all those years ago. When communication with the Kerberos mission - his mission - was lost. The uncertainty is tearing at him, and it’s only been minutes. _Will Keith be okay? He has to be. He’s Keith, he’s always okay._

But if he was, he would’ve spoken to you through the comms, a voice in the back of his mind says.

Maybe they’re down, and he can’t get through to them. Maybe he’s trying. Another part of him, the more hopeful part, responds.

_Keith had months- a year of this._ He reminds himself harshly, his feet slipping in the sand beneath him.

Shiro is panting hard, and it’s not just from his pace, the uncertainty begins in the pit of his stomach, working it’s way up to his chest until he feels like it will rip him in two.

He reaches the Black Lion first, Veronica and Coran close behind him. He climbs onto Black, onto her head to get to the hatch and there’s already a sinking feeling in his chest. He’s breathing harder, and not from the exertion this time. _She should’ve opened her hatch._ He thinks, the panic rising in his chest. _She should’ve opened her jaws to get Keith the help he needs by now._ Shiro reaches it first, leaning down to pull-

But black won’t open.

He tries again. Uselessly. His breaths fighting their way from his lungs. The panic rising, past his head. He pushes his breaths out faster. They burn as they leave his throat.

Her hatch is sealed, her jaws locked closed, and no matter how hard he pulls, how loud he shouts, begs her to let him in, nothing changes. He looks back to Coran, his face showing equal confusion.

“We can try the mouth.” Coran tries. His voice low, more serious than Shiro has ever heard him before.

But her jaw clamped shut. Her eyes powered down.

 

* * *

 

Shiro finds himself standing in front of Black with Coran, Veronica and Iverson. She looks smaller, lying on her side, half buried in the harsh sand of the desert. But Shiro still can’t take his eyes off her.

“Why won’t it open?” Veronica asks, eyeing Black cautiously, her voice is thin with worry.

“It could be something to do with the Lions protection systems, they’ve never sustained a crash like this before. Maybe they’re shutting down to protect the Paladin’s…”

Shiro lets Coran’s voice fade into white noise, closing his eyes and forcing himself to breathe steadily. He tries to reach Black, to reach out to their bond. She let him live inside her consciousness for a year, there must be something still between them.

His hands curl into tight fists, his eyes squeeze shut but he finds- nothing. No soft pull towards his Lion, no comforting growl in the back of his head. It’s just, quiet.

“I can’t reach Black.” He says slowly, opening his eyes to the same scene he’d closed them to.

A hand, Coran’s, finds its way to Shiro’s shoulder.

Shiro hadn’t noticed it before but Coran looks tired, like he’s aged years since they landed on Earth. And he can see the lines creasing his forehead, the worry for Allura in the way he keeps pulling at his gloves.

And he’s hit with his own selfishness. _He_ was the captain of Atlas. He’d decided, selfishly, to run to Keith without a thought to his crew. He hadn’t even thought about them, hadn’t spared a thought for Veronica, worried for her baby brother. He hadn’t even spoken to Coran about Allura, lost at sea. The guilt begins to eat at him.

_Is this how Keith felt? When he searched for me?_ He’s heard stories from the others of the days-months after his disappearance. Of Keith, desperate, single-mindedly pursuing Shiro. Pushing away the concerns of the others to search. Did the guilt creep into the edges of Keith’s mind, like it is Shiro’s? When he looked at Allura, searching for a way to defeat the Galra, did he push the guilt down to keep searching? What about when he looked at Pidge? Desperate to find her brother?

“Let’s regroup on Atlas.” Coran finally says says. “We can see if the other teams have had any luck.”

Shiro nods and lets Coran guide him back onto the ship- his ship now.

 

* * *

 

He keeps the Atlas as close to Black as possible without disturbing her and the crater. Keeps her in the corner of his eye, just in case there’s movement.

The atmosphere in Atlas’ command room is heavy, and Shiro can’t stop himself from wondering how Keith felt, after the fight with Zarkon. When he entered the Black Lion to find Shiro gone. _Missing._ Without even a body left behind.

He’d caught glimpses, from Black’s consciousness, as Keith piloted the Black Lion to search for him. It had been like watching through water, he couldn’t see anything clearly. He couldn’t hear the words, but he could hear the anguish in Keith’s voice, the unmistakable way it would crack sometimes when he spoke to Black in a soft voice.

_What if the Black Lion opens and Keith isn’t inside._

_What if he’s trapped inside Black’s consciousness?_ Would he even be able to save Keith from that?

The bleep of an incoming message pulls him out of his thoughts, and he refocuses his gaze on the screen in front of him to see James, hair mussed from the fight, a red stain on his uniform.

“Commander.” He breathes out when Shiro accepts the video chat. “The Green Paladin is on her way back to the Garrison with Kinkade. We’re on route to get the Yellow Paladin now.”

Relief floods through Shiro’s veins, his hands feel warmer, he exhales a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. It’s like his body got a new wave of life.

“Is-is she okay?” He asks, he can see Coran just above the screen, watching him as he talks.

“Broken arm, we think.” James says. “A few minor bruises but she’s conscious.” He adds and Shiro feels another wave rush over him. Pidge is alive. The Holt’s won’t have to deal with another loss because of him. Not today.

“Good work. Keep me updated.” He tells James before closing the video feed and sinking back into his chair.

“Pidge- The Green Paladin is okay.” He says and Coran’s face breaks a little before schooling itself back into a look of relief. He can feel the relief flood through the ship. One paladin, saved. But Shiro can’t bring himself to say anything else. Because even one loss in their team, their makeshift space family, will have been one too many. And at the moment there are still four unknowns.

 

* * *

 

News of Hunk comes next. From James again. James had looked panicked this time, his words falling fast out of his mouth.

“We have the Yellow Paladin.” He’d said. “He’s breathing, but he sustained a head wound.”

“Understood.” Shiro had said, falling back into the commander role. They had Hunk. He was breathing, and outside of his Lion. That would have to be enough. “Get him back as fast as possible and then relieve yourself from duty.”

“Sir,” James almost interrupts. “We can continue.” He says, but Shiro can hear the exhaustion leaking into his voice, the edge in the way he speaks.

“No. The MFE’s have done enough.” He says. He waits for James to confirm before closing the chat.

They head out to the Black Lion again, but there’s still no movement. The hatch won’t budge. She won't’ respond. Shiro tries not to look at her eyes, dull, unseeing like a toys. He tries not to wonder if Keith can see out, or if he’s trapped in darkness. Tries not to wonder if Keith is unconscious or lying, limp in his seat, eyes as unseeing as Black’s.

 

* * *

 

The sun is beginning to set when they get news of Lance. A radio call patches it’s way through to Atlas and Shiro accepts immediately.

He recognises the voice on the other end, but not well enough to put a name to it. Just a familiar Garrison tone.

“We’ve extracted the pilot of the Red Lion.” She says and Shiro feels like a rush of air has just pushed its way out of his chest.

“Is he?” He asks, unable to finish his sentence.

“All vitals seem normal. Possible concussion, but he’s conscious.” She says.

Shiro feels his shoulders sinking, lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He hears a muffled sob from behind him. Veronica.

“Good job.” He says to the voice on the comms. “Get him home safe.” He adds before closing the call.

He hears Veronica murmuring behind him between sobs. But he can’t bring himself to comfort her. He hears Coran move to do it instead, sees a gentle hug out the corner of his eye. “Thank god, thank god…” He hears her mumbling quietly.

It’s on the third “Thank God” that Veronica’s voice melts into Keith’s soft syllables. Shiro remembers looking up at him, from a dusty, worn out couch. He remembers looking through Keith’s unkempt, too long for Garrison regulation hair, to fierce eyes.

“Thank God…” Keith had muttered again, launching his entire body weight onto Shiro, his arms snaking their way around Shiro’s neck until he was whispering it into his hair.

And this time Shiro knows that how Veronica feels now is how Keith felt when Shiro crashed back into his life after being declared dead.

 

* * *

 

Shiro tries at the hatch again, pulling at it with his new arm. He pulls as hard as he can. With two arms. With just the new one. He bangs on her side, begs her to open. But she doesn’t. He’s getting wound up, something inside him is getting angrier and angrier because why can’t Black just let him in or let Keith out. _Why does she have to be the most difficult?_ He thinks as he slams his arm into the hatch with a crash. He does it again. And again. And again. Metal slams on metal. Harder and louder. The metal arm can’t really feel. He knows it hits, but he doesn’t feel any pain connected to it. He keeps hitting until he’s on his knees, crashing into the Lion’s harsh metal.

“Why won’t she open.” He says into what, on a real Lion, would be her mane.

 

* * *

 

It’s closer to morning, the sun threatening to rise above them, when the final piece of good news makes its way to the Atlas. Shiro is slumped in his chair, eyes half open. He’s somewhere between sleep and disassociation. Coran has been by his side for most of the night.

He and Shiro have spent the better part of the night at each other's side. United in their worry.

It was in the dead of night, the stars a thin blanket above Atlas, that Coran confided in him. He’d pulled his chair closer to Shiro’s, after Veronica had fallen asleep at her console, her body deflating as the worry left her face.

“I didn’t want to say this earlier.” Coran begins, his voice sounding dry. Tired. He’s speaking so low that Shiro shifts a little closer. “But, perhaps, The Black Lion and Keith are waiting… until everyone else is safe.”Shiro exhales softly, too tired to answer. Too wrecked with worry to entertain the thought, but…

_That sounds like Keith…_ had drifted across his mind before he closed his eyes.

“The-The princess is fine.” The voice over the comms says and Shiro’s eyes shoot open. “Possible broken leg. Dehydrated”

Shiro is up before Coran can mutter a response to the person on the other end of the line. He feels the adrenaline, buzzing through his body, pushing him back to Black.

_Coran was right_. He knows. Deep down, maybe he’d always known it but hadn’t wanted to believe it.

 

* * *

 

Shiro finds himself, for what feels like the hundredth time that night, in front of The Black Lion.

She looks the same as she had before nightfall, eyes dull, half covered in sand, lifeless. But Shiro tries, the adrenaline that he isn’t really sure is adrenaline anymore pulling him towards her.

And this time, when he puts his hand to her, she opens.


	2. The Rise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith rises, like the sun.

It takes everything he has, everything they have, to throw the Galran robot into the sky, pushing it as far away from Earth as possible. As far away from the little planet they call home. The one they’ve just sacrificed so much to save.

Keith can feel the others straining through their bond. He can feel Black straining with the effort. They’re taking the brunt of the weight, directly under the robot, but it’s not enough. The power of all five lions isn’t enough to save everyone. Keith can feel the panic settle in under his skin, he can feel his heart rate speeding up until it hurts to pull in a breath.

But he knows what he has to do.

“It’s been an honour to fly with you all.” He says. _Because it has._ And because this could well be the end, for all of them. And he wants them to know that he appreciated it, that he loved every minute of it. The other’s don’t respond, but he can feel their bond bloom, he can feel it burst into something new. Gratitude, hope, camaraderie. But he refuses to let himself get lost in it. “Now everyone, give it all you’ve got!” he says, willing Blacks to give one last, final, thrust.

She pushes them up, pushes them away from Earth, using everyone’s power. Until they break the atmosphere. Push the robot as far away from them as possible.

Keith catches a glance at his screen, sees the danger warning for a split second before he sees the robot explode.

He closes his eyes before he can be engulfed in the light.

He makes one final request of Black before the shock wave sends him and the other Paladins plummeting back to Earth.

_Protect them._

 

* * *

 

The Black Lion’s cockpit haunts Shiro.

It’s been a week since the Paladins and their Lions fell back to Earth. A week since Pidge, Lance, Hunk and Allura were brought to the Garrison infirmary. It’s a little short of a week since Black finally opened her mouth and allowed Shiro to enter.

Shiro wishes he could wash the image from his mind, douse it in bleach like they had Black’s cockpit two days after Keith’s rescue. Anything to cover the memories, to overpower the stench of blood he can’t seem to rid from his nostrils. But he can’t. Just like how he can’t remove the memories of the arena, of fighting Keith on a crumbling satellite, of Keith beneath him, screaming. They can only be overlaid with new horrors.

Whenever he closes his eyes he sees Keith, slumped on Black’s console. The whites of his uniform standing out against the dark of the cockpit. Helmet on the floor. Blood matting his hair. Blood soaking the console. Blood dripping. The image is burnt into his retinas. He always knew Keith shone brightly, but he’s never blinded Shiro like this before.

Shiro can still feel his weight in his arms. It’s usually just before he wakes, or when he zones out in meetings, that he feels it. The careful weight, the slippery surface of his armour, cracked and covered in blood in some places. He still can’t fathom how Keith gained so many injuries. Neither can the doctors. Not when the others were all, for the most part, okay.

But Shiro takes on Keith’s injuries as if they are his own. He memorises them. If he can’t take on Keith’s physical weight he’ll take on that of his wounds. He tells himself it’s so that he can relay to Krolia when she lands. But the list still doesn’t leave him after she lands. The events keep replaying in his head, even as he stares at Keith, lying in the hospital bed.

_Head injury, possible trauma, possible hemorrhage_ had faded into _medically induced coma, a possible concussion._  
_Open, compound leg fracture_ became a _broken leg._  
_Chest trauma and a broken arm_ had turned into _a dislocated shoulder and broken ribs_ which had quickly morphed into a punctured lung as the Atlas’ infirmary had been thrown into chaos trying to stabilise Keith.

He wears these wounds and those of the other Paladins on his sleeves. Because he wishes, deep down, that he’d crashed to Earth with them. Wishes that he’d been there alongside them for their fight. So he keeps the tally of Keith’s injuries close. Next to Hunk’s concussion, Pidge’s broken arm, Lance’s bruises, Allura’s broken leg.

It’s Krolia who voices the questions he’s too scared to. She arrives quietly, with the power of a typhoon, stalking her way into Keith’s room, freezing those in it with a steely gaze, so similar to Keith's that Shiro had to blink away the shock. She had pulled up a chair next to Shiro’s and sat down. Gaze set stubbornly on her son’s face.

“Of all the paladins, why has he sustained the most injuries?” She asks a few hours later.

Shiro can hear the accusation in her tone. He can feel it reverberating inside him. _Why Keith?_ It didn’t make sense. They’d all fallen from beyond the Earth’s atmosphere. They’d all plummeted. Shiro had felt the Earth shake on impact five times.

“I don’t know.” He says honestly. Because he doesn’t. A part of him knows that Keith’s harness had been undone. He doesn’t know how, or why. Doesn’t want to think about it. He knows from experience that the harnesses on the Lion’s pilot seats are strong. They’re not something which would come off on their own. But he also knows that Keith’s not suicidal. Not without reason, anyway.

“Either all five should be this injured, or he should be less injured.” Krolia continues, hand ghosting over Keith’s face, over the bandage surrounding his head. The hair on his left side is shorter at the front, Shiro knows underneath will be a bald patch where the doctors had to clear access to his wound.

“I know.” Is all he can say. 

Krolia’s hand strokes Keith’s cheek lightly, falling onto his shoulder, the one not in a sling. Shiro steals a glance at her out of the corner of his eye. Taking in the dark bruises under her eyes, the unkempt hair. The worry etching into her face. The narrowing of her eyes and furrowing of her brow that look so much like Keith’s. So much like the Keith Shiro remembers, leaning down at him, concern shadowing his face the day Shiro had woken up with silver hair, no arm, and a new found appreciation for Keith. He looks away quickly. Focusing his gaze onto Keith’s face. Relaxed. _For once._

“I don’t know if they told you.” He begins slowly. Unsure of how Krolia will take it. Although she’s never given him reason to fear her he knows that she’s fiercely protective of Keith. Knows that she’ll tear the world apart for him. He would too. “But Black wouldn’t open at first.”

He keeps his gaze on Keith as he speaks. Watching Krolia’s hand continue to move until she’s gripping Keith’s limp hand. He watches her give it a long squeeze.

“That sounds like Keith.” She says, and he can hear the soft smile in her voice before even looking to confirm it.  
  
“You know, when he was a baby, he used to grip my finger so hard it hurt.” She continues, her warm gaze fixed on Keith.

Shiro lets out a breathy laugh. “He always knows how to hold onto whats important.”

Krolia nods. “My mother used to say that if your child’s grip is strong he will become greatness. And Keith’s was so strong, even for a half Galra." She says, eyes fixed on Keith's face. "I always knew he would be great.” She finishes, squeezing Keith’s hand one last time before laying it gently back on the bed.

Shiro keeps his gaze fixed on Keith. He tries not to see the hallowed out, tired ghosts under his eyes from the drugs. Tries not to see the bruises exploding from his head injuries like dying stars. He tries hard not to see Keith, face down on Black’s console. Instead he tries to see Keith in his Garrison uniform. Slightly too big around the collar. Instead he tries to see Keith, destined for greatness, overflowing with potential.

 

* * *

 

Keith’s helmet is returned a week and a half later.

It’s same day the doctors inform Shiro and Krolia that they’re taking Keith out of his coma.

It sits atop the table next to Keith’s bed. Watching the room, as Krolia fires question upon question at the doctor. _How long will it take for him to wake? Will there be permanent brain damage? What if he doesn’t remember?_ The doctor hadn’t been able to answer. The helmet stays on the periphery of Shiro’s vision. The dark red of Keith’s blood still stains it, the white of the helmet is no longer as bright in comparison. The glass of his visor is cracked across the middle. When Shiro holds it up it mirrors his own scar. Someone, Veronica, he thinks, had scooped it up when they rescued Keith. Someone else, he doesn’t know who, had planted it in Keith’s hospital room, uniting helmet to owner. Blood to blood.

It’s the day after Keith is weaned off the drugs when Shiro decides to clean it. He doesn’t want Keith waking up to the grim sight. He wants to replace the glass too.  _Just in case._ Keith doesn’t need any more blood spilt. But that will have to wait. He scrubs it clean until his hands hurt, until the helmet is as white as the first day Keith had picked it up.

Keith doesn’t wake up as soon as they had hoped. He stays asleep, even after the drugs are out of his system and Shiro soon runs out of ways to occupy himself. He knows he’s needed in the effort to rebuild. But it’s like he’s pulled to Keith, like a compass, physically unable to pull himself away from his north.

So he makes promises to Keith. A new one every day.

The first is silly, in the late afternoon sun he tells Keith that if he wakes up he’ll let him beat Shiro in a hoverbike race.

As the moon begins to shine he tells Keith that if he wakes up he’ll never force him to eat green peppers again.

It’s in the early hours of the morning on the third day, as the sky turns a pale pink, as the sun is beginning to push its way back into view, that Shiro gives Keith his biggest promise. One he’s not sure he’ll have the nerve to keep.

“Keith, when you wake up, I’ll ask you to marry me.” He says quietly into the night. The hospital has barely stirred for the past few hours, even the nurses funnelling their way in and out of Keith’s room have slowed. “You don’t even have to answer.” He adds quickly. “Not 'till you're better.”

 

* * *

 

15 days after the fall Keith wakes up.

Shiro hadn’t been there. He’d been giving a speech to the survivors of Earth’s last stand.

He’d caught the message appearing on his wrist, half way through his speech, out of the corner of his eye. KROLIA: He woke up. He’d rushed through the rest of his speech as fast as he could, practically jumping from the stage when the ceremony was over and running to the infirmary, it’s not the first time back on Earth that he wishes for his hoverbike.

Keith’s eyes are closed when he enters the room. He’s turned half onto his side, leaning into Krolia as she perches on the pristine sheets. Shiro feels the warmth spread in his chest. For the first time in almost two weeks Keith looks like Keith asleep, instead of a hallowed out shell with Keith's face. Krolia meets his eyes and motions to his chair. She looks more relaxed than Shiro has ever seen her. He takes the seat, but not before grasping Keith’s hand in his own.

“He woke up for a few minutes.” She says softly, hand carding through Keith’s dark hair, pulling it gently away from his face to reveal long eyelashes and pale cheeks. “He asked for you.” She adds, meeting Shiro’s gaze with a knowing smile. 

Shiro feels himself blush, but he brushes it off. He knows Krolia is observant. He knows that she knows. Knows that Keith lights up his world like the sun, knows that this past week without Keith has been like living in the Arctic Circle in winter for Shiro.

“Is he…?” _well? In pain? Okay? Coherent?_ There are too many questions to ask all of them.

“He was in pain.” She says. “The doctor gave him a sedative. But she said he’ll wake up fully in time.”

Shiro feels the worry, the fear, clear like the clouds parting to reveal soft sunlight.

“Thank God.” He mummers, pulling Keith’s hand to his lips in the ghost of a kiss.

 

* * *

 

It’s late into the night when Keith next wakes. The forbidden hours, as Shiro likes to refer to them, when the previous day has ended but the current hasn’t really begun.

Krolia had excused herself a few moments earlier, something about finding Kolivan. Shiro had only nodded as she left, half asleep and content to just sit with Keith. Their hands are still locked together. He hadn’t expected Keith to wake up, not at this hour.

He spends the time Krolia is gone somewhere between asleep and awake, his head resting lightly on Keith’s good leg, angled towards Keith’s face.

He comes back to a hand in his hair, ruffling it slowly.

And then he jerks up. Fast, heart beating, pumping as his eyes find Keith’s.

He takes in a breath as familiar violet eyes find his.

“Shi..ro?” Keith asks. His voice is hoarse, scraping like a violin being played badly.

“I’m here.” He says, hand finding Keith’s again.

Keith’s eyes soften, lips turning upwards into an easy smile and Shiro feels the relief wash through him, the dam that had erected itself in the depths of Black’s cockpit breaking.

“Does it hurt?” Shiro asks, he can feel the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. Keith doesn’t look like he’s in pain, he looks like he used to on the castle of lions, early in the morning when Shiro would wake him for training. Sleep warm, hair mussed, trying desperately to cling to Shiro, to pull him back into bed with him.

Keith shakes his head.

“I’m glad.” Shiro says, putting a hand to Keith’s cheek. Keith covers it with his own.

Keith squeezes Shiro’s hand once more before he pulls Shiro towards him. Shiro moves easily with it, until he's in Keith's space, leaning over the bed. And then Keith is shuffling over, using his elbows to push himself until there’s a space for Shiro on the bed. Shiro can’t help but let out a laugh. “Keith, we can’t both fit on this tiny bed.” He mummers into Keith’s hairline. Keith just pulls his hand again, weakly.

“Can.” He replies stubbornly, voice a little less than a whisper.

Shiro knows he wouldn’t be able to wipe the grin from his face if he tried, knows he wouldn’t be able to deny Keith anyway, not even on a normal day.

So he lifts up the covers and crawls in, careful to avoid Keith’s injuries.

Once he’s in, left leg dangerously close to the edge of their new little world, Keith begins to reposition, leaning in until he’s resting his head on Shiro’s bicep, body turned into Shiro’s as much as possible with his leg in a cast.. Shiro can feel the heat radiating from Keith, a sharp contrast to the cold body he clutched to his armour in Black’s cockpit. He relaxes back into the bed, turning back into Keith until his left leg finds safe purchase back on the bed.

They lie there, as intertwined as they can be with a broken leg and a dislocated arm between them, breaths mingling until Keith speaks what is the most comprehensive sentence he’s said two weeks.

“'course I’ll marry you.” He says on the end of a sigh, his voice coming out weaker this time. But Shiro can hear the commitment in it. The confidence. He grins as he watches Keith sink back into the cushions, the tension leaving his body.

“You always did eavesdrop.” He laughs, leaning in until their faces are almost touching. He doesn’t miss Keith’s exhale of a laugh ghosting on his lips as he leans in closer. Doesn’t miss the way Keith angles his face, slightly. He definitely doesn’t miss the way Keith’s mouth moulds into his own, perfectly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feeeeeeeeeew
> 
> I'm so glad people liked this series and wanted a second chapter of this! I hope it lived up to what everyone wanted to see, I really enjoyed writing it.
> 
> Come say hi to me on tumblr @ [Havanarr](http://havanarr.tumblr.com/) and if you'd like to see any more scenes in this post season 7 bubble feel free to hit me up with a prompt ;D


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